


The Con

by BlaiddDrwg1982



Series: This is the Soundtrack of Our Life [25]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Song fic, That Damn Radio, graveside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 02:47:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11682444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiddDrwg1982/pseuds/BlaiddDrwg1982
Summary: Post Season 4, Derek comes to grips with his ability to full shift, and the great stinking fear that his nearest and dearest smell of.All, that is to say, but one.





	The Con

**Author's Note:**

> Needless to say I don't own the song.
> 
> The Con - Tegan and Sara.
> 
> I don't own Teen Wolf.
> 
> Don't sue me please!

"So wait. You're telling me that he just...went off. Like. On his own, and now no-one can find him."

The collective group of people exchanged guilty glances. Things had been rather busy of late. Hectic. Insane. In a word. Absolutely insane. Perhaps two words.

"He died. Okay. He died. Came back. FULLY shifted. Not just a teeny tiny extra bit of fur and fluff. FULLY shifted."

Stiles ran his hands through what was left of his hair. Grabbing his jacket he stormed to the door of the vet's office, and threw it open without even looking back. Things had been tense all the way back to Beacon Hill. Malia and Braeden had snuck off during one of the many fuel stops. Good riddance to bad influences and such. None of them were particularly surprised, but there was a small measure of shock regardless, considering everything they had hall been through together.

You can't control who comes and goes from your life.

"But you can sure as fuck make it count before they go," he mumbled to himself before throwing his Jeep into gear and driving off to the darkness.

***

Driving through the streets, taking gods knew how long to eliminate the obvious locations; the remains of the nemeton, the Hale Vault, the Hale house, and eventually even his own, Stiles pulled off to the side of the road near the Beacon Hills' Cemetery, and got out of the Jeep. Sitting, listening to the ticking of the engine starting to cool, he took a breath and got out. They'd been through this place more than a few times hunting the various things that went bump in the night, he had a pretty good recollection of the layout, and where he's seen the headstones that stood atop empty graves to commemorate the Hale family passing on. Reaching into his pockets to keep his fingers warm against the chilly night, his fingers found a piece of paper, carefully folded, and tucked in the hole that usually swallowed his loose change.

Pulling it out, Stiles wandered over to the nearest street lamp and read the hasty scrawl with the practised ease of someone who was used to deciphering impossible to read manuscripts.

Or who was just used to reading his own scattered handwriting. 

Reaching the last line, he felt his breath catch in his throat, and a renewed purpose fill his middle. Running with more speed than what would be considered polite or appropriate between the headstone, Stiles slid to an ungraceful stop behind the mausoleum. Inching around the corner, he saw Derek standing there, facing his parents' grave, hands gripping what looked like a bottle in one and a rag in the other. 

"I shifted," he muttered, voice hoarse like it had been screaming into the night. Or crying into the bottle.

"Fully shifted and I didn't know what to expect. I mean. I turned human. Or near enough. And I got hurt."

He took a swig from the bottle.

"Got hurt and nearly died. Why? Why didn't you tell us that this could happen."

Stony silence met his question, swallowed by the darkness that surrounded him. 

"Now...now they don't know what to make of me. Am I wolf? Am I human?!? Am I...what...what am I?"

Taking a deep breath, he took a deeper swig from his bottle of whiskey.

"I miss getting drunk I can tell you that. But Stiles here...Stiles can. If I can't. Maybe one of us should."

Stiles for his part felt his mouth go dry. There wasn't much kindness in Derek's voice. He should have known better than to try and hide from a werewolf. Especially given that Derek seemed to be able to smell him out from almost anywhere. Walking sheepishly from his poor cover, he walked over to Derek and opened his mouth to say something, before being interrupted by his phone.

_I listened in_  
_Yes I'm guilty of this_  
_You should know this_  
_I broke down and wrote you back_  
_Before you had a chance to_  
_Forget forgotten_  
_I am moving past this giving notice_  
_I have to go_  
_Yes I know the feeling,_  
_Know you're leaving_

Glaring at his ill mannered device, he hit pause and shoved it deep in his pocket. Taking the bottle from Derek, he took a sip and winced. Whiskey wasn't exactly his favourite drink, but self preservation told him to NOT critique the alcohol offerings from a slightly off his rocker Werewolf. 

"Didn't your father ever tell you it isn't safe eavesdropping on vicious predators?"

Taking a half step back, Stiles looked incredulous rather than afraid.

"That's what they're all thinking isn't it? I can smell the fear rolling off them all, like they're afraid I'm going to go off the leash and tear out all their throats."

Derek gave a self depreciating sneer and turned back to the grave stones.

"What about me?"

Derek snorted.

"No. Seriously Derek. You leave a letter in my jacket then fuck off and take the measure of everyone else. What about me?"

Derek turned on his heel and rushed the younger man, not giving him time to measure his reaction. Taking a long and deep sniff. Opening his mouth to respond, the phone piped in with it's unwanted two cents.

_Calm down, I'm calling you to say_  
_I'm capsized, staring on the edge of safe_  
_Calm down, I'm calling back to say_  
_I'm home now_  
_I'm coming around, coming around_

Stiles slapped his pocket, causing the device to shake enough that it froze up.

"You were saying?"

"You smell like...you smell..."

Derek's voice trailed off. Turning around, he felt his shoulders slump. Standing in silence, they gave the smallest of shivers. Taking a tentative step forward, Stiles reached out to put a hand on Derek's shoulder. Barely moving Derek lifted the phone from Stiles pocket, and with the lightest of touches, pressed play, and looked into Stiles ever present and comforting eyes.

_Nobody likes to but I really like to cry_  
_Nobody likes me_  
_Maybe if I cry_  
_Spelled out your name and lists the reasons_  
_Vain of heart_  
_Don't call me back_  
_I imagine you when I was distant_  
_Non-insistent_

"Hey hey hey it's okay Derek," pressing stop on the phone, he closed his friend's hand over the device. 

Derek shook his head.

"What do I smell like Derek."

"You aren't afraid."

"Why should I be."

Derek opened his mouth then snapped it shut. Sitting on the grass, he all but growled when Stiles joined him.

"It isn't a rhetorical question. Why should I be afraid of you?"

"Because we don't know what the fuck is happening to me for starters."

Stiles chuckled at that.

"He says to the geek who tech supported his friend after getting bitten by a werewolf and then fell in love with a Hunter."

Derek had to concede the stupidity of that expectation where Stiles was concerned. Slumping back on the ground, looking up at the stars, he grumbled when Stiles rested his head on his stomach.

_I follow suit and laid out on my back Imagine that_  
_A million hours left to think of you_  
_And think of that_  
_Calm down, I'm calling you to say_  
_I'm capsized, staring on the edge of safe_  
_Calm down, I'm calling back to say_  
_I'm home now_  
_And coming around, coming around_

"So. What else is it that you're looking for in these headstone Der?"

Shrugging, he genuinely didn't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. His mother was the only other wolf he knew who could do a full shift. Academically he knew that there were no answers for him among the dead. But he wasn't sure he trusted the answers the living had for him. At most, he'd trust Argent, and that would still require a leap of some layer of faith. 

_Nobody likes to but I really like to cry_  
_Nobody likes me_  
_Maybe if I cry_  
_Encircle me, I need to be, taken down_

"You don't know what it felt like Stiles. The fear...these are people I died to defend and now...they just..."

Lifting his hand to his face he put pressure on his brow to keep from losing it.

"It was..."

"Awful. Yeah. Been there. Remember?"

Stiles normally calm voice had taken on a bit of a darker timber.

"I remember every vivid detail of the Nogitsune situation Derek. So yeah. I know how shitty it is to look at your friends and family and feel nothing but fear."

Stiles rolled back to look up at the stars instead of up at Derek's face. Pressing play, he let the tiny sound of his phone speaker fill the areas. 

_Encircle me, I need to be, taken down_  
_Encircle me, I need to be, taken down_  
_Encircle me, I need to be, taken down_

"Except you Derek. Everyone except you."

Throwing the piece of paper he'd had stuffed in his pocket at Derek, he got to his feet, wiped his eyes and started to stalk off towards his Jeep.

Derek opened the paper he had stuffed into Stiles pocket and re-read the letter he'd left behind.

_Nobody likes to_  
_But I really like to cry_  
_Nobody likes me_  
_Maybe if I cry_  
_Nobody, Nobody, Nobody, Nobody, Nobody, Nobody, Nobody, Nobody, Nobody_

Moving his lips as he read the last lines of what he wrote.

" '...give me one good reason to stay here.'"

In Stiles' unique writing style, there was one word added.

"'Me.'"

_Encircle me, I need to be, taken down_

Derek got to his feet and followed Stiles to the road.

"Stiles."

_Encircle me, I need to be, taken down_

"STILES!"

The younger man stopped and turned to look at Derek.

_Encircle me, I need to be, taken down_

"That's a damn good reason."

Smiling sheepishly, he tucked the paper in his jeans pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> After a long hiatus, I hope this meets expectations.


End file.
